


To Have Loved and Lost

by Star_Madison



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Death, Felix is too fucking polite, Krem has issues, M/M, Slow Burn, probably other shit I am forgetting, so much fucking angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-07-23 15:32:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7469112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Madison/pseuds/Star_Madison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felix never expected to run into a group of Grey Wardens or to be given a choice. Returning to Skyhold months after surviving his Joining, he thought the First Warden was merely shuffling him off into a post where he'd be out of the way of those more magically and physically skilled. But life is tricky sometimes and slowly Skyhold became home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started to write this as a way to vent my frustrations and anger. After two pages, the story took on a life of its own and spawned into a multi-paged monster then a multiple chapter angst fest. The entire thing is going to be written and posted out of order. 
> 
> I apologize for the angst and sadness coming up.
> 
> Mostly unbetaed but my good friend Keej looked over this and pointed out some errors I missed.

Standing in a doorway to a dim room, he remained silent, still, straining to hear something that not yet had a voice. Something whispered at the edges of his consciousness, hinting at darkness, each inaudible sound overlapping and impossible to understand. Swallowing as realization swept over him, he staggered, gripping the edge of the doorframe for support. _It was too soon_ , his mind cried, fear forming into a knot, lodging in his chest.   
  
  
Taking a breathe that made his lungs burn, Felix latched onto that feeling, grounding himself in the present. Letting out a soft _Kaffas_ , he would need to start making plans, wondering how much longer he had. Weeks? Months? Turning away from the sunlight, he stepped back into room he had shared with Krem for the last thirteen years.   
  
  
Sweeping his gaze across the space, he couldn’t find one spot where their things hadn’t tangled together. Running fingertips across the fabric spilling out of the basket Krem kept his scraps in, he continued forward, heading for the weapons rack tucked in a corner by their bed. Picking up the pair of daggers Krem had given him years ago, their surfaces still gleaming like new, he slide them into their sheaths, laying them on the bed. A short sword joined them, followed by a heap of fabric in silver and blue.   
  
  
Meticulously going through the growing pile as he remembered other things he would need, Felix set to folding it all neatly before placing it into a bag. Rubbing fingers over the worn leather, another present from Krem, he fought the urge to pick up Krem’s pillow and bury his face into it, breathing in his scent. Realizing his hands were shaking, he let out a weak laugh, forcing himself to forge ahead and finish.   
  
  
He told himself he would not be leaving for weeks, perhaps longer. Until the Calling grew louder, taking his choices from him, he would simply prepare for that day now that it was beginning to loom over him. The tasks seemed to pile up in an ever increasing list, he couldn’t simply slip out in the middle of the night like a bandit, leaving behind his friends and loved ones without even a goodbye. He had to tell them, let them know that the Calling was beginning and his lifespan could once more be counted in weeks and months.  
  
  
There was so much he would miss, Felix thought, eyes darting around the space, seeing evidence of a life lived in each and every corner. He’d never see his nephew finish growing up, watch him find his place in the world, would never know if Krem’s hair turned silver or white or would recede. Thoughts tumbled over one another, things he wished to see and do, all filling his mind. Closing his eyes, he let out a soft, bitter laugh.   
  
  
He didn’t regret accepting the offer from the Wardens so long ago. _Couldn’t_ regret it. They had given him a chance, helped him when all he could see was the end approaching on swift wings. To his last breathe, he would be grateful for them. Without their aid he would have never had this chance and he had tried not to squander the second chance. Wiping at his damp eyes, he left the bag half packed, his feet carrying him over to the bookcase. Sliding a finger across the leather-bound spines, he had been lax in researching the Calling, figuring he had more time to.   
  
  
Pulling out a slender book written by Grand Enchanter Fiona, Felix held it in both hands like a life-line, wondering if the answers to the Calling were held within. Raising his head, he looked from the desk to door, warring with himself. Finally reason won over desire and he placed the book down to read later. He had to tell them before it slipped out.   
  
  
Locking the door behind him, he looked across the courtyard to the tavern, knowing at this time of day everyone he was closest to would be within. Breathing in, shallowly, Felix set off across the grounds, pausing to avoid a small group of screaming and laughing children. Continuing forward, he opened the door to the Herald’s Rest and stepped inside, hit by a wall of sound and laughter that had him flashing back to another tavern. One completely different from the clean and well lit space before him but nonetheless it reminded him strongly of the Smelly Hare on the docks of Minrathous. For a moment he missed the heavy salt air, the dimness of the Smelly Hare, the people there who had only known him as Felix, none of the failed expectations he had felt from his relatives following him to that place where he had been accepted yet...yet it was not the place that truly mattered. It was the people who had.   
  
  
Wrapping that feeling up tightly inside of him, he knew that even if he didn’t find an answer before the Calling drove him into the Deep Roads, he had been loved. _Was_ loved.   
  
  
Searching the tavern’s interior, he spied the Iron Bull sitting head and shoulders above the rest of the Chargers, Dorian barely visible at his side. His feet carried him forward, to the people who loved him and whom he loved. Spotting Krem on Bull’s other side, Felix knew whatever happened, he would never regret a single moment of the last thirteen years.   
  
  
Claiming a chair, he sunk down into it, preparing to tell them what was starting. As the words fell from his lips, he thought about those Wardens he had met on that lonely road so many years before had given him a second chance. He had done his best to live a good life.   
  
  
Looking around at the gathered faces, Felix plowed ahead, one hand clasped in Krem’s and the other reaching out to wrap around Dorian’s, squeezing.   
  
  
He would be alright. Holding on tight to the feelings filling him, he knew that he would face the future much as he had before. With a smile and calm acceptance. Anything else would waste the precious gift of life he had been given.   
  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
  
Later that evening, wrapped snuggly under the covers, a warm, hard body pressing down into his own, Felix found sleep impossible, even with the reek of sex filling their room, muscles pleasantly aching. Gliding his fingers up a sweat-dampened back, he exhaled, feeling Krem shift restlessly against him. Relaxing his body deliberately under his lover, he felt the moment Krem relaxed as well, sinking deeper into slumber. Lightly playing with the short strands of hair covering his nape, he had a hard time fighting down the despair threatening to overwhelm him.  
  
  
It was so much easier to be confident and sure in the bright light of day, surrounded by family and friends. Closing his eyes, Felix remembered the long conversation held in the tavern, and hated the way they fought with him, trying to insist going with him when the time came. He couldn’t let that happen.   
  
  
Wouldn’t put their lives at risk when his own was coming to a close.   
  
  
The burden fell on him and only him, and he had to find a way to convince them. Maybe giving in and allowing them to escort him as far as the gates of Orzammer would be the best choice; he knew the dwarves would never open the gates for anyone not a Grey Warden or without special permission and if he asked...they were certain to prevent the Chargers from getting in.   
  
  
Hating himself for those thoughts, Felix wrapped his arms a little more firmly around Krem, heart aching. Slowly he realized there was an odd tension rolling off Krem and opened his eyes, looking up into a pair of brown-gold eyes staring down at him. Seeing the concern in them, he swallowed, feeling as though the other man could see all the thoughts cluttering his mind.   
  
  
Instead of the words he expected, he felt a pair of lips against his own and desperately returned the gesture, pouring all his feelings, his love, into that single action. Trying to memorize the way Krem felt, smelled, touched him, Felix would need that for when he set off on his Calling, to keep himself going. He wondered if it was the same for Krem, but the words caught in his throat, choking him.   
  
  
He wasn’t ready. Deep down he knew this was a false acceptance, a fake calm he presented to everyone. A pretense that could shatter at any moment and he clung to it with all his strength, trying to hold it in place against the fear, the anger and sadness. Oh he felt so angry. Thirteen years wasn’t enough time. He suppose it was better than dying before his 20th birthday but it wasn’t fair, he wanted more time. Tightening his arms around the muscular body, he felt a sob building, unable to stop it.   
  
  
Callus fingers cupped his jaw and Felix leaned into it, tears sliding down his face silently, a second sob trying to force its way past his lips. “Alex..” Leaning forward slowly, Krem rested his forehead against the younger man’s, arms sliding around him, keeping their bodies pressed from shoulder to knee, fitting neatly together. “Alex.”   
  
  
He railed at the unfairness of this. Feeling the other man shaking against him, he held on, as though he could hold the Calling at bay with the strength of his body. Lip wobbling, Krem wanted to cry, to curse the Maker for stealing his lover away from him long before he was prepared to lose him. Alex was suppose to be safe, spending most his time behind Skyhold’s walls, away from threats and danger. Tucking his face against the side of Alex’s neck, he knew yelling at him would only hurt Alex and solve nothing.   
  
  
He was going to lose Alex.   
  
  
The cold hard truth was staring him in the face and he had to come to terms with it. Vowing that he’d make the most of the time they had left, Krem knew he would never be able to let him go off alone. His own tears finally spilled over, eyes damp as he clung to Alex, crying for all they would never have.   
  
  
~~~~~  
  
  
Weeks rolled by, Felix spending nearly every waking hour pouring every books, however obscure, searching for any mention of the Calling. Often Dorian joined him, other times he were joined by various members of the Chargers, all willing to lend a hand. Krem a constant presence, marking pages of interest, bringing food and drink, pulling them from the room when mental exhaustion prevented them from focusing any longer.   
  
  
He was grateful for all the help. Throughout the weeks, the voices were growing louder, stronger, continuing to whisper at the edges of his consciousness. He was still unable to understand them but every so often he would catch a word. Time was running out and he was no closer to locating a cure than when he started.   
  
  
Staring down at the book written by Warden Hawyse Thorn, he carefully marked his spot before closing it with an audible thud. Raising his head, he caught sight of the other two men, both looking at him; one confused and the other with growing understanding. “I need some air,” he said, pushing his chair back. Standing, he turned, walking away from the overflowing table, piles of books stacked out of the way yet close enough to be within reach.   
  
  
Quick footsteps followed him, far too heavy to be Dorian’s, the clank of armor reaching him. Slowing down, Felix ignored the burn of his lungs, the cough wanting to build throttled down as he reached the door leading outside. Without hesitation, he pulled it open, stepping through and leaving it wide open for the man following in his wake. Breathing in the cool, crisp mountain air, he gave into the cough, leaning against the rough stone wall, fighting to catch his breathe. A firm, callus hand settled against his neck. That simple touch reminded him of why he spent so much of his time these days in a dusty library, trying to find an elusive cure for what was, by all rights, permanent. Only one Warden in over a thousand years had ever been cured from the taint coursing through their veins and Felix doubted that he would ever be so lucky to become the second.   
  
  
Trying to hold onto the hope was difficult when it seemed he was facing an uphill climb growing steadily steeper. Leaning against Krem’s side, he was finally able to catch his breathe. “This is going nowhere.”  
  
  
“We can’t give up, Alex. There’s still time,” Krem countered, tightening his grip on his partner.  
  
  
Time. Would there be enough of it, he wondered. It was flowing through his fingers, like sand in an hourglass, spilling away before he could catch it. “I need to speak with Fiona. There must be something that happened to her, just her, that removed the taint. If I can find out what...then maybe Dorian and I can come up with a way to recreate it. But Krem...if this doesn’t work...we need to finish making plans. The Calling is growing louder, I can almost understand the voices sometimes.”  
  
  
Hands clenching into balls, Krem had not wanted to hear those words. He could feel the pressure of failure. The thing happening to Alex wasn’t something he could bash into submission, attack with his maul or sword until it was gone. He felt helpless in the face of the disease slowly stealing away his lover. Cupping his face, he drew him in for a kiss, tasting the dampness on his lips. Pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against Alex’s, he sighed. “Tonight. We’ll talk about it tonight. Right now..can we just take time to do something different?”  
  
  
Relief filled him at those simple words. “I was going to suggest spending time outdoors. I...when it’s time, I won’t see the sun again and spending my remaining days indoors doesn’t seem all that appealing.” Taking a step backwards, Felix caught Krem’s hands, pulling him along the corridor leading to the ramparts. A quick detour through Cullen’s office found them on the ramparts, a steady wind rolling over them. Breathing in the crisp air, he wandered down the wide passage, stopping on the far end. Leaning forward to rested his forearms on the stone, he gazed out at the mountains stretching off into the distance.   
  
  
Mimicking his posture, Krem slide his arm across Alex’s shoulders, their bodies pressed together from shoulder to ankle. The quietness of the mountains settled around them, both far removed from the sounds filling Skyhold. Everything felt distance, beyond his reach, but the lean body he held onto. “Let’s take a trip. Anywhere you want to go.” He wanted to be alone with Alex, no distractions, no new line of research to distract him, nothing but the two of them. He knew it was a selfish need, to take Alex away from the others who loved him as well but he needed this. Needed memories to hold onto once Alex was gone.   
  
  
It might be one of the last good memories he had.  
  
  
“Alright. Let me think on it and I’ll let you know.” Accepting was easy Felix realized. He needed to get out of Skyhold for a time, see more of the world before he descended into the Deep Roads, never to return. Straightening, he left his palms pressed against the rough, sun-warmed stone, staring at the beauty all around him. “Krem, promise me something.”  
  
  
“...What?”   
  
  
“That you won’t try following me into Ozrammer or the Deep Roads.” Turning his head slightly, he continued gazing at the mountains, watching a bird soar through the clear blue sky. More birds joined it, dipping and soaring as the wind caught their wings, lifting them higher. He wondered what it would be like to fly as the Wardens of old had on the backs of their griffins. “I want you to live, love.”   
  
  
Alex was asking the impossible but Krem knew why and despite his aching heart, couldn’t truly find fault with it. Giving him a sad smile, he tried to agree but found his throat suddenly dry. Clenching his fists, he wanted to punch something. It was a fucking shame that the darkspawn who had done this was long dead. He wanted to kill it with his bare hands. A horrible thought occurred to him and he looked at Alex. _If he had never been afflicted with the Blight, would they had met? Would his father had joined the Venatori without that tragedy sending him to such a desperate plan?_ Shaking the thoughts away, he had to focus on the now.   
  
  
Focus on spending Alex’s remaining time forming lasting memories. What might have been was firmly in the past, and he wasn’t going to squander these few months they had left. Wrapping his hand around Alex’s, he stood next to him, trying to see the same beauty his lover clearly did. Slowly the sun dipped towards the horizon, sliding behind a mountain, casting color across the sky in ever deepening shades. As they continued to stand there, simply being together, he finally realized the gift the other man was attempting to bestow on him. Humbled by the knowledge, Krem found himself blinking back tears.    
  
  
Clearing his throat noisily, he started to pull, strength held in check, on the hand he never released. “Come on, it’s getting dark and I don’t want you catching a cold. Stitches will skin me if I let that happen.” Trying for upbeat, he knew he had failed miserably. Grateful for how polite Alex was, he wouldn’t call attention to how fake the words sounded. Steering the younger man through the now empty office, Krem aimed for the door on the other end of the ramparts, where Chief use to live, wanting his lover inside before the chilly mountain air started bothering his lungs.   
  
  
Barely pausing to look around the now guest room, he shivered before hurrying to usher Alex through the space and out the door leading to the tavern. Squeezing on the narrow platform with him, he stole a kiss, laughing at the look thrown his way. Kissing again, they nearly tumbled down the short flight of stairs, laughter muffled by lips, hands sliding across covered bodies, their path familiar after thirteen years. Breaking away, he smoothed a thumb over kiss swollen lips, staring at the other, soaking in his appearance. He...was going to miss this. The easy intimacy born from a long relationship, comfortable as a well worn pair of socks. The way Alex accepted him so completely, never complaining about his hang-ups, the things he still struggled with. Krem knew this was it for him, he’d spend the rest of his life comparing every potential partner against the memory of Alex.   
  
  
Sensing the change, Felix wrapped his hands around metal covered wrists, squeezing. “Krem.” Coaxing him out of his head, he stepped backwards, guiding him forward until they reached the top of the stairs leading downwards. “Let’s go downstairs, spend the evening with everyone. We should tell them of our plans.” Stepping down, he continued to lead Krem forward, easing his way down to the next floor. Glad they were moving so slowly, the stairs posed no problem to his lungs, and soon they were on the ground floor, right next to where the Chargers and Dorian were gathered, drinks already flowing.   
  
  
Minutes later, they were seated in their customary chairs, Dalish and Skinner going to fetch another round for everyone. Leaning back in the chair, he saw the sad, desperate look hovering in Dorian’s eyes. A glance at Dalish, their positions were switched, and Felix was soon wrapping arms around his best friend, murmuring to him in Tevene. None of the Chargers paid them any mind, respectful of the need for a moment’s comfort. Keeping his head bowed, they leaned on one another, speaking softly in the language of their homeland, the sounds fading away until it was just them.   
  
  
There was things he could not promise Dorian as much as he wished to. Impossible things. Aching for the despair clinging to the older man like a cloak, Felix held his hand, soothing the hurt and sadness radiating off him. Movement caught his eye and he raised his head, looking up and meeting the Iron Bull’s gaze. Drumming up a smile that felt hollow, he knew it had failed if by the deepening of sadness visible in that single eye which saw so much. At the question he saw, he gave a slight shake of his head, nodding down at Dorian. He would leave his best friend in the Bull’s capable hands, hoping that in time Dorian would stop blaming himself. Stroking the dark hair lightly, he whispered something softly in Tevene, returning the desperate hug and resting his chin on top of Dorian’s head, letting him cry into his chest.   
  
  
Keeping his eyes open, he fixed this moment, and every moment like it in his memory. He would miss these people when he said his final goodbyes to them.   
  
  
Please, Maker, let me have one more year with them, he pleaded to the silent god.  
  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
  
Time never stopped flowing, ignoring the wishes of those impacted by it. Minutes ticked by, turning into hours, days blending into each other as the seasons started to turn. Everything came to an end eventually. Nothing was permanent, especially not one’s life. Felix was starting to understand the way Grim thought, the way the Avvar viewed the world as ever-changing, where nothing had any permanence. He wished he could find that level of peace, of acceptance he had so many years ago, again.   
  
  
Staring up at the massive gates, several dwarves in full armor standing between them and the oppressive sight, he shivered inside his heavy coat, the south in the full grip of autumn. Already the trees were losing their leaves, the richness of colors they had covered themselves in just two weeks ago long ago. Movement came from behind him, something large and heavy shifting, and he didn’t need to look to know Iron Bull had ceased acting as the giant statue, a child held firmly in his arms.   
  
  
Turning slowly, putting the gates out of sight, he couldn’t forget they were there. The Calling was loud now, the voices audible, his prayers to the Maker futile. Sweeping his gaze from one side of the group to the other, Felix swallowed thickly. It was time to say goodbye, to bid these people who came to mean so much to him farewell.   
  
  
Stepping forward, he offered his hand to Skinner, watching the way she hesitated before nodding. Fingers briefly touched his own, an accented voice telling him he wasn’t so bad for a shem. Dalish was next, the blonde elf throwing herself at him, hugging fiercely and extracting a promise he’d kick some darkspawn in her name. Laughing, he returned the hug, feeling her slip away moments later. His arms drop when she moved off to join Skinner. Rocky approached, handing him a heavy bag, his grin infectious as he told him to blow up some of the blighted bastards. Stitches and Grim were next, the medic loading him down with a pack of medicine, his Avvar husband a bag of dried food.   
  
  
Tears pricked at his eyes, for their thoughtfulness, Felix struggled to find the words to thank them. Soon he found himself face to face...or face to chest with the Iron Bull. Setting down the bags, he took his nephew, grunting a little with effort and hugged him fiercely, already missing him, feeling little arms looping around his neck. Time stretched out, and he was loathe to release the small body but finally he passed him back. Meeting Bull’s eye, he saw the way he grinned lopsidedly, his voice rumbling out of that large chest, telling him to keep his guard up. Unable to hold his gaze for long, Felix looked away, meeting Dorian’s pale, haunted face.   
  
  
Stepping forward, he embraced the older man, hugging tight, whispering something in his ear. Slowly, their grip lingering, he finally pulled away, putting a little space between them. Turning, he searched for the final person, spotting Krem standing a short distance away, body tense, his eyes locked on the closed gates. Leaving the bags on the ground, he paced towards his lover, glad he was standing apart from the others; the words he had for him were for Krem’s ears only. Reaching him, he placed a hand on the armor covered arm, and didn’t bother summoning a smile for him when Krem finally looked at him, expression as haunted as Dorian’s.   
  
  
“I have something for you.” Reaching through the collar of his silver and blue outfit, Felix pulled a chain over his head, two rings dangling from it. Taking hold of his wrist, he turned the man’s hand palm up and dropped the chain, a slight clink filling the air when the rings hit the metal of his gauntlet. “My parents’ wedding rings. I want you to have them.” To remember me by went unsaid but he knew Krem heard the words. Kaffas, this was so hard. Breathing in, he stepped closer, pulling Krem in for a long kiss, hands settling against his hips, holding on, trying to draw their kiss out as long as possible.   
  
  
He had to pull away long before he was ready to, lungs burning. “I love you, Krem.”  
  
  
Closing his fist around the gift for a moment, soon slid around his neck, eyes burning, Krem forced himself to keep them open, not wanting to miss a single, final moment with Alex. When he started pulling away, he stepped forward, wrapping arms around his lover and burying his face into his neck, tears rolling down his face. He wasn’t ready for this. Warring with dual desires to beg Alex to stay and letting him go. “Alex....” Cursing at the pleading filling his voice, he felt the other man press against him and choked down a sob. “Please...”  
  
  
“I can’t stay, love...” He heard the longing in Alex’s voice and weakly laughed. “I would if I could. ...It won’t be long before I start turning into a ghoul and I don’t want you to see that.”   
  
  
Head jerking up, Krem stared in surprise. He had never thought of that happening to Alex. Shying away from the thoughts of watching him waste away, turning into a blighted creature, he realized this was the better option. As painful as it was to say goodbye, he knew it was hurting Alex as much. Reaching up to cup his face, he kissed him once more, memorizing his taste, the soft moan he made as his tongue flickered across his lips. Slowly pulling back, he pulled off his gauntlets, dropping them to the ground and touching his face again, wiping away the tears. “I love you, Alex.”   
  
  
A smile flashed across Alex’s face, tender and full of love, a kind of peace starting to settle over him. “I love you.” Repeating himself, he was bracing himself for the agony already starting to build. Seeing the pain matching his own in Alex’s sad eyes. Krem followed him back to where the bags laid, hefting several up and following him towards the gates.   
  
  
Taking the bags from Krem once they reached the base of the stairs, Felix found himself stepping forward, arms reaching for him. Dragging the man in for a tight, desperate hug, he kissed him deeply, frantically for a long moment before pulling away. Twisting away before Krem could do anything, he jogged up the short flight of stairs, pausing at the top to look back down at him; already the gates were creaking open, the dwarves moving aside to allow him entrance.   
  
  
“I love you, Cremisius Aclassi. I will love you until my final breathe.” Smiling down at him, Felix made himself turn his back on the brunette, facing the entrance to Orzammer and walking forward. Behind him, he heard a broken sob, the sound making his heart ache, before it was cut off as the gates sealed, separating him from his life.   
  
  
Keeping his gaze forward, he moved forward, a group of dwarves waiting for him at the far end of the hall to welcome him officially to Orzammer, Felix barely noticed the statues or dwarves he passed. Even as he was facing his future, however short it would be, his heart stayed behind with the man still on the surface.   
  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Coughing up blood, Felix pushed himself to his feet, vision swaying in and out, blood dripping into his eyes. Hearing a growl coming up ahead, he ignored the fatigue in his limbs, the burn of his lungs as he tried to breathe. He had been lucky to meet up with several other Wardens all on their Calling, but now he was the last one remaining. Something big and heavy approached, the ground trembling under his feet. Gripping his daggers, the sword lost somewhere behind him, he ducked at the last moment, stabbing blindly out. A roar, hot breathe washing over him.   
  
  
Staggering backwards, his legs gave up the fight. Dropping onto his rear, Felix knew the end was upon him. Keeping his eyes open, he flung one dagger, hearing another roar, then something big grabbing him. Pain bloomed through his body, the massive hand starting to crush him. Using his remaining dagger, he stabbed downwards, slicing deeply into darkspawn flesh. Air suddenly rushed around him, his back hitting something hard and unyielding. Struggling to draw in breathe, his vision was going steadily dimmer. Trying to move, to fight, Felix knew it was hopeless, his body was too broken. As the orge approached, its footsteps shaking the ground, he closed his eyes and thought of Krem, a faint smile on his face as he breathed his last. “Krem….”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Krem deals with losing Felix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friend suggest that I write an epilogue and this is what came out.

Returning to Skyhold from Ozrammar passed in like a dream, hazy and details lost forever. Much like Alex was. He could vaguely recall Chief’s worry, Dalish’s hugs. Dorian’s hand touching his arm. But he would never remember anything more. Except that final glimpse he had of Alex.   
  
  
The final sight of his lover vanishing through the massive gates leading down into the earth haunted him. Had he died immediately on entering the Deep Roads, was his death lingering and painful, there was no answers and he knew there never would be. And that hurt, not knowing.   
  
  
~~~~~~  
  
  
Krem stood in front of the door leading to the room he had shared with Alex for so long. Heart in his throat, he reached for the handle, easing it open and stepping through, leaving the door open behind him, sunlight spilling in to fill the space. He could almost believe that Alex had simply stepped out for a short time and would be returning soon. Pulling the door shut behind him, he felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes, throat tight with grief. Shoulders sagging with each step, he found himself by the bed, pillows piled high, some on the floor or peeking out from under the blankets. A half built pillow fort sat in one corner, a visible reminder of the mark Alex had left.   
  
  
Shoulders shaking, he dropped onto the bed fully armored, arms wrapping around the pillow Alex used most often. Burying his face into it, he started to shudder, his grief crashing over him as the scent of his lost love filled his nose. Crying into the pillow, Krem suddenly fumbled for the necklace tucked under his armor. Sitting up when he couldn’t reach it, he peeled the armor off, throwing it ruthlessly to the floor. Fingers wrapping around the skin warmed chain, he tugged it over his head and curled around his precious prize, feeling the metal biting into his skin.   
  
  
It wasn’t fair! He wanted Alex. Bringing the rings up, he fumbled with the chain, finally getting it unlatched. Slowly he came to realize that the rings were the roughly same size, and were not in the Tevinter style. Confusion set in, barely pushing back the constant waves of grief rolling through him. A memory rose, a half recalled conversation, Alex’s teasing voice, _‘Is that’s how it is, amatus? Going to have to get down on my knees and pledge myself to you for eternity?’_ He had fucking done it. The jackass had went through with it and what...never gave him the ring. Anger bubbled up only to collapse under the weight of his grief.   
  
  
Recognizing Dagna’s work now, he fumbled, dropping the rings onto the bed. Scrambling to find them amidst the tangled covers, he wrapped them tightly in his fingers and lashed out with his free hand, punching the wall. Knuckles throbbing, he was still unable to feel anything but heartbreak, longing for someone far out of his reach. With shaking fingers, he slide the ring on then stopped when it refused to go over his knuckle. Easing it off, Krem knew with a certainty that was Alex’s. Turning the other around in his fingers, he slipped it onto his finger, letting it rest against his skin. Fingers trembling, he managed to get Alex’s ring back over the chain and slide it over his head to rest against his heart.   
  
  
Sinking down into the bed, he burrowed his way among the pillows, burying himself in Alex’s lingering scent. Crying harder, sorrow thick in his throat, Krem’s arms ached to wrap themselves around Alex, feeling him pressed against his body the way he was lodged in his heart, unable to be pulled free. Pressing his face against the pillows, he bawled, heart aching.   
  
  
~~~~~  
  
He knew he was worrying everyone but he couldn’t find it in him to care. He was alone, lost and bereft in his grief. Head resting against the solid stone wall, he sat on the floor, arms draped across his knees, crying what seemed like endless tears. Under the heartache, he was angry. Angry at himself for falling for a dying man, at Alex for leaving him.   
  
  
Hiccuping, Krem swiped at his eyes, rubbing hard to try and stop the tears. To forget the pain. To forget Ale....with a shudder, he shoved the thought violently away. No, no! He couldn’t forget him. Never. No matter how much it _hurt_ but Maker, he was so angry. Snapping at everyone, even Chief, for so much as looking at him. Even Kiddo and after causing the kid to burst into tears, he started pulling away, refusing to spend time with the Chargers, often wandering around Skyhold or taking Smoke out on long rides.   
  
  
Head falling back, hitting the stone behind him hard enough to see stars, he let the pain ground him, help him feel something, anything beyond this sorrow and anger. The ache of loss, a hole in his life where Alex had existed, now hollow and empty. Weeping harder, he wrapped arms around himself, in a mockery of holding Alex. Squeezing his eyes tight, Krem wanted him back. Needed to see his face again, feel his laughter, waking up to bodies tangled together. Time. He wanted more time.   
  
  
It would never happen. Alex was dead. Gone. He would spend the rest of his life mourning. Scrubbing his face harder, he was tired of crying but it seemed like he couldn’t stop. Alex had tangled himself deep within him, impossible to extract. What remained of his heart would always long for him.  
  
  
~~~~~~~~

  
Slowly he started to come from the room, reclaiming his usual seat in the tavern. Ignoring everyone, all offered sympathies, Krem tried to drink himself into oblivion, wanting to block the memories constantly filling his mind. Nothing worked. The drinks couldn’t erase the ghost of his lover, the phantom feelings of familiar hands sliding over his body, those times when he could have sworn he heard Alex’s voice coming around a corner. He was trapped, locked in an endless cycle of grief, disbelief and anger and he couldn’t find his way out.   
  
  
Refusing to speak to anyone, even Chief, he did the jobs silently, taking risks he’d never have done in a better state of mind. And he knew what was coming. Could see it in the slope of Chief’s shoulders, the expression in his eye. Bracing himself for being thrown out of the Chargers.  
  
  
“Krem. Come with me,” Chief rumbled, clearly expecting obedience. Following in his tracks, head down, Krem said nothing in reply, looking up when he noticed Chief stopped. “Take a seat, this is going to take awhile.” Soundlessly dropping down, he reached up to run fingers over the necklace hanging from his throat, eyes shutting briefly as he waited for the ax to fall. “You got to get your head on straight. I know how much he meant to you, Krem. But Felix wouldn’t want this.”   
  
  
Jerking his head up, anger surging, he started to yell at him, to tell Chief off for pretending to know what Alex would want. The words died on his tongue as he saw quiet sorrow in that single eye. Sagging in his chair, Krem stared down at his hands. “....I miss him. Maker I miss him so fucking much, Chief. He’s gone...don’t even have a body to send off...” Hiccuping, he found himself caught up in thick arms, face pressed lightly against a grey shoulder. Breaking down, he howled his sorrow into Chief’s shoulder, shaking and clinging.   
  
  
“There, there, I got you.” Cupping the back of his head, Bull held him close, letting his kid leech the pain, getting it all out. Keeping his face pressed to his shoulder, he sighed, hand lightly brushing over his hair. Deciding his kid needed a haircut, he could feel how badly the armor was fitting him, far too loose, a sign Krem hadn’t been eating. Shit this is all messed up.   
  
  
He was amiss in leaving Krem to deal with his pain alone while trying to help Dorian through his and dealing with his own. Felix had been a good friend, an honorary Charger and his loss was felt keenly even months later. Feeling the tears slacking off, Bull kept cooning inaudible, hand sliding down to rest against his lower back. “Krem, take some time. Get your head on straight. Finish mourning. Your position will be waiting for you when you’re ready to come back,” he said, patting his back firmly. “I want my lieutenant back.”   
  
  
Rubbing at his throbbing eyes, Krem couldn’t believe this. No, wait he could. Chief was always generous, going out of his way to ensure all of them got what they needed. Struggling to grin at him, he knew it failed at the expression Chief wore. Leaning forward, desperate for some type of contact, he hiccuped weakly. “I’m sorry, Chief...”  
  
  
“Hey. You got nothing to apologize for, Krempuff.”   
  
  
The use of that familiar nickname brought an ache to his throat and he coughed, eyes burning. “Yeah I do. Been locking myself away, lost in grief...forgot that all of you lost him too.”   
  
  
“Krem, he was your lover. If it had been Dorian..let’s just say I understand. Shit like that leaves wounds no amount of medicine can touch. Look, it’s not much but I know some people who know some people that know some people with connections to Ozrammar. Can talk to them and see if there’s a way to recover his body. It won’t bring him back but humans cremate your dead. Having a proper funeral might help give you closure.” He didn’t know if it was possible but the look on Krem’s face made him feel like he made the right choice in bringing it up.   
  
  
Swallowing thickly at the thought, Krem wondered if it would help. The idea of holding a funeral was....soothing. “Okay, Chief...don’t know if they’d be able to but..maybe we can hold a small funeral? He...” Voice breaking, he felt another surge of grief spill over him, words leaving him as he squeezed his hands closed. “Chief, how do I get over this? It hurts. He’s gone and I’m left behind with all this pain and longing. I..just want him back.” Tears sliding down his face, he continued to lean against Chief.  
  
  
“You don’t. You learn to deal with it, how to let go and find a way to carry on. Felix might be gone but you have thirteen years of memories. Figure out how to blunt the pain with the good times. You had plenty of those. Remember the time Felix got pissed off at some visiting Wardens and dyed their uniforms orange and yellow?”   
  
  
The memory, brought to the fore with Chief’s words, managed to draw a smile to Krem’s face. It had been pretty funny to see the so very serious Wardens forced to walk around in clothing in eye hurting shades of orange and yellow. Smile dimming, he realized what Chief was trying to do and heavily appreciated it. “Chief...”  
  
  
“Don’t, Krem. Think of the good times. He loved you as much as you loved him. Remember that.”  
  
  
Nodding, he leaned back in the chair, staring up at the tree overhead, expression pensive. Slowly he started to talk, bringing up memories of Alex, hearing Chief’s laugh at funny parts. Bit by bit he relaxed, letting the good memories fill his mind, reminding him of the truth of Chief’s words. He was lucky. Alex _had_ loved him, the memories told him, and he would cherish them always.  
  
  
Finding himself wearing a small if sad smile, Krem shut his eyes, allowing himself to envision his favorite memory of Alex. Memories could not replace the hole in his heart and life but...at least he had them. Breathing out, he felt the grief lessen and rubbed a hand across his face, unsurprised to find tears coating his cheeks. It would be a long time before he stopped mourning.   
  
  
But he started to feel at peace. Reaching up to grip his necklace, he felt Chief place a hand on his shoulder. _That’s right, amatus, you aren’t alone_ , a little voice sounding suspiciously like Alex whispered in his mind. Choking on his laughter, Krem fingered the ring, and swore he would be as strong as Alex had been.  
  
  
After all, he had friends and people here who loved him. All of whom had loved Alex too. He shouldn’t have shut them out, lost in his mourning. But he was ready. Ready to start focusing on living again. But first...Chief’s idea was a good one and he knew what he needed. “...Yeah, I think I’ll take some time, Chief.”   
  
  
“Good. Take as long as you need.”  
  
  
“I will.” Falling silent, Krem knew exactly where he wanted to go. Stroking the ring again, he wondered why Alex had never given it to him. “..Say, Chief?”  
  
  
“Yeah Krempuff?”  
  
  
“Do you know when Dagna made these for Alex?”   
  
  
“...Right before he started hearing the Calling.”  
  
  
The news hit him like a blow and he teetered for a moment, gripping the edge of the chair to keep himself upright. “...So that’s why he didn’t give it to me. Fuck.” Loosening his grip on the chair and chain, ignoring the way it had pressed painfully into his skin, Krem exhaled shakily. “Chief, I’m going to go. Will come by before I go to say goodbye.”  
  
  
All but jumping to his feet, he hurried away, aware of the gaze fixed on his back. He didn’t care for a second he was fleeing. He wanted to be surrounded, however temporarily, by the remnants of a happier life. Flinging the door shut behind him hard enough to rattle the frame, Krem kicked off his boots, shedding armor as he hurried across the room. Throwing himself down on the bed, he wrapped himself in the covers, face buried in a pillow as he tucked the tiny stuffed toy made in Alex’s likeness under his chin.   
  
  
He could almost pretend Alex was alive surrounded by his lingering scent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, there will be happier chapters for them coming. Got one in the works right now and hoping to have it up by the end of the week.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter set before the first two. All chapters from this point will lead up to them. Going to try and write them in order, showing the path their relationship took. There will be more Bull/Dorian too.
> 
> There will some internalized hatred and other stuff in relation to how Krem feels about himself in later chapters.

Thunking his forehead against the heavily padded training dummy, Krem was just waiting for Chief to start teasing him. Face hot from the way he tripped over his own feet, nearly dropping his maul on his toes, he groaned when he heard the laughter. A big hand patted his back, pressing him slightly further into the dummy. Tilting his head back before smacking it forward again, he sighed. Chief was laughing, and he could hear the grin on his face.  
  
  
“You got an admirer, Krem brûlée. Becoming hot stuff, eh?” Chuckling again, Iron Bull glanced to where the distraction had been, seeing nothing but empty space now. Patting his shoulder again, he hefted Krem’s maul up, draping it over one meaty shoulder as he walked away, laughing to himself. “Better be careful, Krem, not much of an ego boost dropping your weapon on yourself.”  
  
  
Groaning louder in response, he finally shoved away from the dummy. Turning to glower at Chief, he nonetheless swept his eyes over the training yard. Disappointment rose in him at the empty space, he found himself following Chief back towards the tavern. Damn he had it bad. And never would he hear the end of this. Not from Chief, the other Chargers. Shit, Pavus is going to laugh at him when he found out. Or threaten him. He wondered if he could ask Chief to sweeten the mage’s temper just before it came out he was hot for his friend.  
  
  
Gratefully taking the tankard shoved into his hand, he knew from the grins that they knew. Assholes. Grumbling into his drink to avoid responding to their taunts, Krem felt his face heating up at the playful laughter. Only Grim said nothing, not even grunting. Rocky and Dalish played off each other, teasing him how he lost his grip on the maul when he caught sight of a pretty face. Ignoring them, he chugged beer, coughing a little when it burned going down.  
  
  
Just as he was getting his breathe back, two voices washed over him and he choked again, eyes streaming as the liquid went down the wrong way. Maker’s balls, really. Why tonight. Oh he had already made a fool of himself, why not go that extra step. Wiping at his face, he caught sight of Pavus’ Altus friend’s worried face and tried to ignore him. Pointedly ignoring the laughter, Krem finished his beer and started to stand, needing another to survive this night.  
  
  
It didn’t help his crush at all that Felix Alexius was not only easy on the eyes but a kind and polite man. Krem knew it would never go anywhere, not with the disease hanging over him. He was a safe choice, someone to crush on and soon the dying man would be gone, and he had no desire for trying anything that couldn’t last.    
  
  
He was leaving soon, wasn’t he? Krem hoped it was soon. This was getting ridiculous. He found himself constantly ending up distracted, looking to see if Alexius was there. It was driving him crazy yet he couldn’t help himself, he wanted to see that smile again. Feel the shiver that ran his spine when Alexius looked at him. It was made worse by how the rest of the Chargers knew. Saw his interest and constantly band together to make his life miserable under the guise of helping.  
  
  
It was almost a relief to find out that Alexius was leaving. Part of him hated that he felt that relief, that he could go back to the way things had been and could forget of his crush on the Altus. An **Altus**. He was crushing on a fucking Altus. So what if he was cute, kind and unlike any Altus he ever met. He could forget him.  
  
  
He _would_.  
  
Life continued after Alexius left, sparring with Chief, going on jobs for the Inquisition, taking cute ladies to bed. But in the quiet moments in the tavern, seated in a corner, Krem wondered where he was, if the illness had taken him. He missed that smile, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. ....shit he had it bad. Closing his eyes, he sighed, knowing he was half in love with a dead man.  
  
  
Hearing Pavus’s voice, he opened his eyes, remembering how he was friends with Fel..no. Not Felix. Alexius. He had to remind himself to keep that distance, needing it. A firm boundary between himself, a Soporati, and the Altus. Watching as Pavus walked by, Krem saw the tightness in his shoulders and wondered what happened.  
  
  
Easily eavesdropping from his spot, he heard the words that stole his breathe. “Felix is dead. The Blight caught up with him.” Pushing himself to his feet, he left the tavern, ignoring the odd looks. Reaching his room, he shut and locked the door, stumbling over to the bedroll he called his bed. Throwing himself down on it, he groaned, wondering why the death of someone he barely had known was affecting him so badly. It wasn’t as though they had done anything but talk a few times, never even kissed or spent time alone.  
  
  
He was gone. Dead. Nothing he wanted would ever change that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix arrives in Skyhold! Dorian has questions, Krem is not happy and Bull's thinking of the shit storm this will be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ball is finally rolling. This fic was suppose to be far shorter than its turning out to be. Dorian and Bull will both be playing a larger role in the next several chapters. While the fic is not about them or their relationship, they are close to Felix and Krem respectively. 
> 
> Krem is in denial, Felix is trying to find his place and Dorian is full of questions. Bull is just wondering when it will all explode. Slow fucking burn. Cause Krem has issues and Felix is too polite to force an issue.

There was a commotion at the main gate. Voices floated through the air, a crowd forming. The two men paused in the middle of their spar, the shorter of the two lowering his shield as he peered towards the front gate. A chuckle pulled his attention back to the larger man, sunlight reflecting off the eyepatch covering what had been his left eye. “Chief?”  
  
  
“Let’s go see what’s the fuss about.” Iron Bull could see over the heads of the crowd, a man seated on a horse rising above them. A Warden by the look of the blue and silver outfit, but he couldn’t get a good look at his face. Movement caught his attention, flickering at the corner of his vision. Turning his head, he was surprised to find Dorian running across the courtyard, shoving people out of his way in his haste to reach the mounted Warden. Sharing a glance with his second, he headed towards the now dispersing crowd.   
  
  
His confusion grew when the Warden tumbled off the horse and embraced Dorian, both men laughing and hugging. The confusion faded when the hood fell away, revealing a familiar face; Bull never forgot a face, not even a human face, and he knew this one from those two weeks after the shit in Redcliffe went down. Immediately he looked down towards Krem, knowing how his second had felt about this man. Placing a hand on the younger man’s shoulder when he started going pale, shaking lightly, Bull hoped shit didn’t hit the ceiling.  
  
  
Shit. His crush was suppose to go away and not return. Staring in disbelief at the sight greeting him, Krem had to pinch himself. When nothing changed, he cursed under his breathe. Feeling Chief’s hand on his shoulder, he stood there, stunned and staring as Pavus pulled away to shake the other brunette, his voice rising in disbelief.   
  
  
“Mae wrote to say you were dead! You do not look dead, Felix. What happened?” Dorian continued to grip his friend’s shoulders, eyes wide in disbelief. Finally taking a good look at his friend, he frowned, eyes narrowing a little. “No. That is not what she said. Her letter merely stated you had left Minrathous but that you had been getting sicker by the day. She assumed you had died. Why did you leave?” Shaking Felix slightly when the younger man didn’t respond immediately, he noticed that his attention was fixed on something else. Turning his head, he spotted the Bull and Cremisius standing nearby, his amatus looking worried yet amused. Cremisius..he looked as though someone slapped him with a fish. Pulling his gaze back to Felix, he throttled down a laugh. _Oh Felix you just had to go and fall for someone unattainable._ he thought sadly. Pulling his thoughts away from that doomed romance, Dorian slide his arm around Felix’s and tugged firmly. “Come. We have much to discuss and I am going to find the answers I want.”   
  
  
“I have to take care of Smoke first, Dorian.” Resisting his friend’s attempts to guide him away, Felix dragged his arm free reluctantly. Turning towards the mare standing placidly nearby, he wrapped her reins around his gloved palm. Feeling eyes on him, he turned slightly to look over at the two men still standing there silently watching. Smiling at them, his attention wholly on Krem, he wanted to say so much to him. But now was not the time. Eyes darting up to the captain of the Bull’s Chargers, he nodded slightly at the look he saw there before turning away. Leading Smoke away, Dorian at his side, Felix felt Krem’s eyes on his back the entire way to the stables.   
  
  
Dropping Smoke’s reins onto the ground, he unbuckled her saddle and lifted it with a soft grunt, carrying it over to the sawhorse. Draping it to be cleaned later, he returned to Smoke’s side, removing the blanket and starting to brush her down. “You’re right, I had left Minrathous. After I finished speaking before the Magisterium, I closed the estate down. Sold everything, freed the slaves. The money from the sales went to helping starting their life over. Wrote the servants letters of recommendation and gave them enough coin to live on until they found new jobs,” he said, patting the mare’s neck lovingly.   
  
  
Pacing back and forth a little, Dorian was surprised to find his oldest friend acting so...Felix. He had to admit that Felix had always been odd for an Altus, never once uncomfortable doing what most would consider beneath them... _like yourself?_ a small voice whispered. Ignoring it, he leaned against an empty stall door, arms folded over his chest, watching Felix fuss over the rather striking mare. “Did you keep anything?” He was a little disturbed by the news Felix had sold all of his parents’ things, the estate.  
  
  
“...A few things. Mainly books, some portraits. A few pieces of my mother’s jewelry. Father’s collection of trinkets. I left the portraits and several of the books with Mae, everything else came with me. Gave away most of the money too.” Rubbing Smoke’s soft nose, he took off the bridle and with one hand on her neck, lead her into a nearby stall. Taking a bucket, he went to fill it with water, taking care not to put too much in it. Hanging it on the hook, he turned to fetch her a scoop of feed, unsurprised to see the look on Dorian’s face.   
  
  
“Dorian, I had no need for money or possessions. I was dying. Selling everything and giving the money away to those who could use it was the right thing to do. What use does a dead man have for belongings or a fancy mansion?” Stroking Smoke’s forehead, Felix knew what had put that expression on his friend’s face. Dorian enjoyed comfort and wealth. All things he would have gladly given up if it meant his mother was alive and his father hadn’t lost himself in a desperate bid to save him. “By giving it all away, I helped people. Ensured their freedom. I don’t regret it.”   
  
  
“You were always the best of us,” Dorian’s voice was soft. Watching his friend finish tending to his mare, he cleared his throat slightly, trying to shake away the tightness. Pushing away from the stall door, he crossed over to him, placing a hand on Felix’s wrist, stilling his movements. “Felix...what happened after you left the capital?”  
  
  
Gripping a rag, he sighed, finally looking up at Dorian. “After speaking before the Magisterium and selling the estate, I decided to return to the south. There was nothing keeping me in Tevinter.” Gently pulling his hand away, Felix went back to wiping down the saddle, placing the blanket aside to dry. A quick sideways glance told him that had not been what Dorian wanted and he sighed, deciding to come clean. Laying the rag down, he turned towards him. “We better sit down. It’s not a short story.”  
  
  
Grasping hold of the offer with both hands, he caught Felix’s sleeve and hauled the man along with him. Mustache twitching in mild distaste at the idea of sitting on hay, Dorian wanted the story far more than taking the time to find a proper seat. Pulling him down with him, he settled. “Well?”  
  
  
“On the road, I had stopped to rest and came across a group of Wardens. They seemed surprised to see me and had been about to kill me when the senior Warden stopped them. She wanted to talk, ask how long I had the Blight, about myself. It felt she was judging me, weighing my answers.” Pausing for a breathe, he looked over at Dorian, taking note of each twitch of his expression, the way he was trying not to frown. He had tried not to think about how close the Wardens came to killing him, not realizing until later that they had been able to sense him through the growing Taint. Looking away, towards the stables, he continued. “After she was done asking questions, she told me I would not live to make it back. That is when she gave me a choice. To undergo the Joining or a quick, painless and merciful death. I didn’t hesitate. Even for the chance to live.” Trailing off, Felix shook his head, avoiding glancing back towards his best friend, not wanting to see the expression he knew Dorian had to be wearing.   
  
“They took me to Weisshaupt. My name was added to the list of Wardens and my training begun. Or it would have if the Blight hadn’t left me physically weak. The mages tried first but once it was discovered how feeble my magic was, they passed me off to the warriors. Couldn’t lift the swords or shield and the lighter, one hand swords were easier but I could not go for long without passing out. One of the rogues taught me how to throw daggers, insisting there was ways to learn to fight without needing healthy lungs. He taught me the most, but I had still been left not fitting in anywhere. Not a warrior, rogue or mage. The High Constable finally assigned me to one of the Warden historians.” A cough was building, interrupting him. Bending forward, elbows resting against his thighs, Felix coughed wetly, hands curling up into fists. Riding through the cough, he felt muscles spasming, aching deep within his chest. Feeling a hand against his back, he shook his head slightly, telling Dorian no, he will be fine.   
  
  
Coughing once more, he leaned back, rubbing at his chest. “I’m alright.” Voice raspy, he wished he had taken longer to share the story on how he ended up a Warden. But he knew Dorian. His friend would pry the details out of him and best to get it over with sooner than later.  
  
  
Staring at him in concern, Dorian left his hand against Felix’s back, letting the new information settle within his mind. None of it was comforting and more than a little was horrific. Noticing how Felix sidestepped discussing the Joining, he wondered why all the secrecy and how did they know Felix had the Blight? So many questions rolled through his mind but he would need to wait to ask them. Rubbing at his back, he listened as Felix started talking again.  
  
  
“A few months of that, I started getting bored and begun to examine the fortress. Wrote up suggestions on how to strengthen the walls and generally made a pest of myself. Not long after I begun, the First Warden called me into her office and told me I would be given my first posting. Named Senior Warden and sent off. She wanted to use my connections to the Inquisition and the university of Orlais. So here I am. Senior Warden to Skyhold.” Fear bubbled up in his throat, stealing his breathe as he turned to stare at Dorian. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”   
  
  
“Felix, you will do fine. You always had a plan and was never shy in executing it. This is no difference.” Relief filled him when the panic eased from Felix’s face. Tsking his friend, Dorian adopted a haughty tone, looking to erase what remained of the fear. “You certainly used that mathematical brain of your’s against me more than once!” Something eased in him at Felix’s laughter, a sound he thought he’d never hear again.   
  
  
“You have a point. Was letting myself become overwhelmed.” Standing, he moved towards the saddle, picking it up and carrying it to Smoke’s stall, settling it on the barrier between stalls, the blanket neatly folded and tucked under one arm. Lightly stroking her neck, Felix secured the gate behind him and headed back towards Dorian. “I should see about finding the person in charge of quarters.” He paused for a moment to pick up his bags, sliding the straps over his shoulders.  
  
  
Claiming two bags, books by their weight, Dorian smiled. “I shall introduce you to Lady Josephine. Such a charming woman, I imagine you will get along famously.” Leading Felix away from the dusty, smelly stables, he pointed out things as they walked past, sensing and ignoring Felix’s confusion. Just as he ignored the still hostile looks thrown his way, many doing a double take at a clearly ‘vint Warden.   
  
  
Nodding politely at people, he lagged behind Dorian, unable to keep up with his friend’s brisk pace. Reaching down, Felix felt for the familiar outline of a jar, sighing softly. Stopping suddenly at the base of a wide staircase, he sighed again. Ah there went his luck. Stairs. Many of them now that he looked around. Taking a shallow breathe, he started trekking after Dorian, keeping each breathe slow and shallow, hoping beyond hope he didn’t pass out halfway up them.   
  
Things went quickly after Dorian introduced him to a petite lady in gold, her dark hair curling around her face. Finding himself shown up another flight of stairs that left him gasping for air, Felix let them bustle around him, showing him the key features of the room. He would remember none of it but nodded politely when they looked expectantly at him, pulling a smile up from somewhere. Only when did the Lady Josephine leave did he relax, muscles going limp as he sagged, chest aching.   
  
  
“Felix...you should know something.” Hovering by the door, Dorian was hesitant in bringing this up yet he owed it to Felix. The younger man had been the only one who truly seemed to enjoy his company, liked him for who he was and never once tried to change him. He owed him; Felix had encouraged him, supported him. In short, he had been a friend when he woefully lacked any. “It is about Cremisius. Felix, my friend, don’t get your hopes up. I have never seen him show interest in any man nor take one to bed. Perhaps you should not let yourself fall too far for him.”  
  
  
Oh so that was what had been bothering Dorian. Leaving the bag open next to him, Felix turned gold-brown eyes on his friend, a faint smile crossing his face. “Dorian, you don’t need to worry about me. It might have just been harmless flirting or him being friendly to the dying man.” It was sweet of his friend to fret that he would have a broken heart if Krem rejected whatever had been between them. “Even if he doesn’t return my affections, I would be happy to call him my friend.” Placing the half full jar of ointment down, he frowned at it. He would need more and soon. Continuing to unpack the bag, he noticed Dorian was still staring at him, looking uneasy.   
  
  
“I promise, Dorian. I’ll be alright.” Laying another book on top of the first for organizing later, Felix started to speak when a jaw cracking with a yawn interrupted him, leaving him looking so surprised that Dorian had to laugh.  
  
  
“On that note, my dear friend, I will take my leave. You look horrible and must rest. I will come back tomorrow, we will finish catching up then.” Sweeping towards the door, Dorian paused and looked back at him, lips curving upwards slowly. “I am quite pleased to see you are alive, my friend.” Shutting the door firmly behind him, he strolled towards the tavern.  
  
  
Shaking his head fondly, Felix rose, crossing to the door and locking it. Dorian had a good suggestion, he was exhausted. Toeing off his boots, he stripped on his way back to the bed, leaving a trail of clothing behind him. Dropping onto the bed, he wrapped himself in the covers and quickly fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Krem is still in denial, Felix trying to fit in and both Bull and Dorian are meddling in their own way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of this is from chat logs between myself and my best friend Kitt. Iselle is my original Inquisitor. It seems reasonable that Felix would be suffering from lingering affects of the Blight even after the Joining. 
> 
> The next chapter will hopefully see them beginning to grow closer.
> 
> Unbetad. Any mistakes are my own.

Weeks passed and Felix started to settle into life in Skyhold, relishing the chance for a future; even if it would be only twenty or thirty years. Life in Skyhold was quiet, uneventful. Even though Dorian kept insisting he needed a whole new wardrobe. It was a familiar argument, one born of a time when his friend thought he wasn’t properly maintaining his status as an Altus.  
  
  
“Dorian, I don’t need knee high boots made from dyed ram leather. Or halla leather gloves. You know I’ve never been one to follow fashion. Nor am I able to afford a wardrobe like you are thinking I should have.” Felix kept his voice firm, light, not giving an inch. Dorian could go buy whatever he wished to retain fashionable but he had always felt stifled in the clothing favored by most Altus and Magisters. The simpler clothing of the Soporati were always far more comfortable. He felt like himself in the plain and unadorned clothing.  
  
  
“What do you mean, you can not afford a new wardrobe?” Lips turning down in a frown, Dorian stared at his oldest friend, knowing his confusion was showing. “Your parents were wealthy, you are their sole heir, you had inherited everything.”  
  
  
“I sold the estate, all their belongings and gave most of the fortune and money from the sales away.” Flipping through a book, he scanned the page, aware of the stunned silence coming off Dorian but saying nothing further. Lifting a quill, he copied down a passage that looked interesting, knowing how to out wait Dorian.  
  
  
Sputtering, Dorian raised his hands, letting them drop a moment later. “You what? Felix! You gave away a fortune?! Why? You could have used that money!”  
  
  
Sighing, he set down the quill and turned to face his best friend. “And do what? I had weeks at most left to live, Dorian, and no amount of money or having a fancy estate would save me. Far better to give the money away to people who could use it. I freed all the remaining slaves, wrote the servants glowing recommendation letters and gave them all an equal sum of money. What was left over was separated into two even amounts. One half went to the elves in the alienage and the rest to the poorest Soporati.” Reaching out, he pushed Dorian’s jaw up until his mouth closed. Turning away, he checked the ink was dry before stuffing the parchment between the pages of the book; he would have to do this later. After calming his friend down.  
  
  
“You.” Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his face, admitting that giving away a large fortune and keeping hardly anything for himself was so completely Felix. Dorian knew of no other in either the Magisterium or Altus who would throw away their fortune, even when death was close. “You are a far more generous man than I, my friend. The Imperium is a poorer place without you yet I am all the richer for having you back in my life.”  
  
  
“You know me, never was interested in wealth or fancy clothing.” Gathering up another book, Felix caught Dorian’s look in the corner of an eye and sighed. Shifting the books in his arms, he turned away, knowing the other man would follow. “What?”  
  
  
“Your scars. Aren’t you going to need better clothing once winter approaches?” Falling into step next to his friend, he keenly felt a wave of cold wash over him even in the height of the southern summer. Working to keep the worry out of his voice, he couldn’t let anyone know just how much he worried for Felix. Even with no one else being around to overhear their conversation.  
  
  
“Eventually.” Admitting that, he slowly descended the stairs, mindful of his breathing, not speaking again until they were in the mural room. “Been saving up coin to afford it. For all my planning, saving enough of the money for warmer clothing was not a consideration I made.”  
  
  
“I could give you a loan.”  
  
  
“No.”  
  
  
“Felix.”  
  
  
“No, Dorian. My credentials from the university are still good. I’ve been looking for short-term tutoring jobs, and Lady Josephine has been talking about hiring me to look over her family’s finances. I’ll manage.” Stepping from the great hall, Felix stared down the stairs in annoyance, wishing there was an easier way to his room; one with less stairs. Sighing to himself, he started the slow walk down them, feeling Dorian’s gaze resting heavily on his back.  
  
  
He knew that would not be the end of their argument over the money but he would not accept, wanting to make his own way. Accepting the money would leave him feeling guilty for taking something away from his friend. Wheezing faintly by the time they reached level ground, Felix didn’t protest when Dorian plucked the books from his arms or take a firm grip on his bicep, allowing himself to be guided towards the flight of stairs leading up to the second floor.  
  
  
Or Dorian taking the key from his pocket to unlock the door before ushering him inside. Sinking down gratefully in the sole chair, he heard Dorian messing with something but paid him no mind, attention focused on controlling his breathing. Jumping a little when something was pressed into his palms, he opened his eyes and saw a steaming mug of tea. Raising it up, he drunk slowly, tasting the herbs used to help him breathe better, knowing better than to thank his friend.  
  
  
Dorian would only wave it off.  
  
  
Setting the now empty mug down on the table, Felix watched as his friend paced around the space, pausing to poke and inspect various objects littering his room. Despite the months he had lived in Skyhold he had not yet made the room a home. Only the pillows on the bed and the books beginning to fill the built-in bookcases hinted that anyone lived here at all. Rising he went to add the new books to the bookcase, taking a moment to ensure they were where they belonged before finally turning in time to find Dorian frowning at a jar.  
  
  
“Are there any herbalists in Skyhold? I ought to replenish my supply of that.” He didn’t like how low his supply was and had no idea where to find more.  
  
  
“I will speak with Stitches. Can you do without this? He would work better if he had a sample.” Twisting the lid off, Dorian sniffed at it warily, familiar herbs tickling his noise. Blowing out a breathe at the scent, he gave his oldest friend a critical look, not liking for a moment how pale and worn Felix looked.  
  
  
Hesitating a moment, he nodded. “If you think he can use it.” Felix hoped this Stitches worked cheap, mentally counting the coins he still had. Sighing softly, he knew he’d have to find work and quickly. Winter was harsh in the South and he would never be able to afford them unless he found some way to earn much needed coin. And soon. Felix couldn’t regret giving away his entire fortune but he wished now that he kept a little extra in case.  
  
  
It was a shame he did not have anything else to sell. Barely noticing that Dorian was speak, he looked up when his friend shoved at his shoulder, surprise on his face. “Dorian?”  
  
  
“You were ignoring me.” Grumbling at the younger man, he frowned. “What’s on your mind?”  
  
  
“Trying to find a way to come up with money for winter clothing and medicine. I sold everything my family owned.” Idly straightening a pillow, he didn’t notice the expression Dorian was giving his back. Never did it occur to him to not be upfront with Dorian about his money issue, even if it would cause his friend to scold him. It was just easier to be honest.  
  
  
“Including the summer place down near Marnus Pell?” Leaving the half empty jar on the desk, Dorian claimed the empty chair, crossing one leg over the other as he watched Felix messily tuck the covers into place.  
  
  
Movements stilling, he turned towards Dorian, confusion turning into disbelief as he remembered the summer home. It was quaint by the standards of most Magisters, far smaller than the usual sort of place one of the ruling class summered in but Felix knew it should sell for a decent amount of coin. More than enough to survive on for years, possibly over a decade if he managed his money closely.  
  
  
He may even be able to donate some to some of the people affected by the civil war in Orlais. If he was able to include the furniture and paintings he knew filled the summer house, it should bring more than enough to survive on for well over a decade and give some away to those in need. Something smacked into his face causing him to jerk. Staring down at the crinkled vellum at his feet, Felix raised his gaze to glance towards Dorian, unsurprised at the scowl. “Yes, Dorian?”  
  
  
“You did not hear anything I said.” Narrowing his eyes at Felix, he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, looking irritated. “That is the second time in a short time you were ignoring me.” Even though concern was barely visible in his eyes, he knew the other man would see it. He did not like the way Felix kept drifting off, attention shifting inward. It reminded him too much of the days where he had spent staring up at the ceiling unseeing.  
  
  
“I’m fine, Dori.” Crossing the room, he pulled a chair away from the table, sinking down into it across from him. Reaching for a bottle of whiskey, he opened it, pouring two fingers of the deep gold liquid into glasses before adding a few drops of water. Pushing one towards his friend, he took the other, sipping at it as the aroma fills his nose. “Merely thinking.”  
  
  
Deciding it was time to change the subject, he gratefully took the glass and sniffed deeply, letting the smell of caramel fill his senses. Ah Felix always did know how whiskey. He could almost imagine it was a vice if he didn’t know the younger man as well as he did. “Thinking about Cremisius?”  
  
  
Of course Dorian would bring Krem up the moment he took a swallow of something. Swallowing his mouthful, Felix gave his friend a long look. “He’s been avoiding me. I’m not going to force him to interact with me.” No matter how much he wish he knew what Krem was thinking, he would keep his distance. It would be up to him to decide how much interaction they’d have.  
  
  
He knew what it was like to have choices taken away. He would never do that to another. Finishing off his drink, he saw what Dorian was about to say and decided to cut him off before he could say anything. “No, Dorian. Don’t do anything. This is something Krem and I will have to figure out ourselves when the time is right. You can not force this.” Keeping his voice light yet firm, keeping his gaze on the older man, Felix knew that his friend wouldn’t be able to not completely meddle. It was just how his friend was.  
  
  
Staring back at Felix, Dorian grumbled, knowing how futile it would be to try and convince him to do something. It always had been once the man set his mind on the course. A trait Dorian both admired and hated in equal measures. Polishing off the rest of his drink, he rose to his feet, dusting imaginary dust from his clothing. “Well. In that case I am going to go. There is much research waiting for me.” Turning away, he didn’t bother looking at Felix again, feeling his eyes on his back and grimaced. As polite as the younger man was, Felix was quite capable of spotting and heading off any behavior he deemed inappropriate in others. And Dorian would not try fooling himself he was able to hide the path his thoughts were taking. Best for him to leave before Felix could stop him.  
  
  
“Good night, Dorian.”  
  
  
Suspicion filled his voice yet Dorian was more than grateful Felix would never utter the words anyone else would. It would not do to give away the game so quickly.  
  
  
~~~~~~  
  
  
Krem stood in the training yard, leaning lightly against the solid stone wall behind him, arms loosely folded across his chest, eyes fixed on the second floor room barely visible. Inside was the person who taunted his dreams and distracted him when he should be training. He doubted he did it knowingly. Letting out a low breathe, he wanted to go confront the other man. To confront the thing between them. But something inside of him resisted, unwilling to go and put himself in a situation of vulnerability.  
  
  
Spotting movement, he turned his head and spotted Chief approaching. Pushing away from the wall, he recognized the look aimed in his direction. Sighing, Krem stayed where he was, knowing it would be futile to try escaping; Chief would easily catch him eventually. “Chief.”  
  
  
“Krempuff.” Stopping directly in front of his lieutenant, the Iron Bull fixed his eye on him, falling silent for several long seconds. Finally after countless minutes, he spoke again and the words coming from his mouth had Krem looking away, flushed. “You need to stop this. Go speak with him, air whatever this is out. You’re distracted and I can’t take you on a job if you’re going to be preoccupied with thoughts of him.”  
  
  
Exhaling, he had to admit Chief was right. He had been mooning over Felix for months now and he needed to either end his obsession or see where it could go. Lifting his head to meet Chief’s knowing gaze, he grumbled at the half grin Bull wore. “Right Chief. I’ll go do that.” Not now, he thought, shying away from the thoughts that bubbled up.  
  
  
“Now, Krem. Not later.”  
  
  
“....I hate when you do that.”  
  
  
Chuckling, Iron Bull placed his palm squarely against Krem’s shoulder and pushed him in the direction of Felix’s room. “Delaying it will only make it harder, Kremsicle. Get it, hard-er?”  
  
  
Groaning loudly, Krem let himself be pushed forward another few feet before stopping to crane his head around, looking back at Chief. “Alright, I’m going. Try not to pun yourself to pieces, Chief.” Moving away from him, he could feel that eye on his back as he headed towards the stairs leading up to the second floor, berating himself the entire way.  
  
  
Faltering when he came face to door with the wooden door separating him from Felix, Krem wavered, nearly turning around and leaving again without so much as knocking. Starting to turn, he spotted the top of Chief’s horns on the stairs at the far end and cursed. Of course Bull would follow to ensure he went through with this. Turning away, he knocked hard on the door, harder than he meant to.  
  
  
Silence came from within. A frown started to settle on his face. Had Felix somehow slipped past him without notice? He was certain the other man was inside. Knocking again, Krem stepped closer, ears straining for any hint of a person within. A faint, nearly inaudible sound reached him. Worry ratcheting up within him, he banged on the door, calling out Felix’s name and another soft, muffled sound floated out of the room.  
  
  
Grasping the handle, he tried to open it, relief filling him as the knob turned easily in his palm. Flinging the door open, he stormed inside, not sure what he expected to see. Felix sitting upright, eyes closed tightly as his chest rose slowly was not it. Slowing his headlong rush, Krem approached cautiously, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Alexius?”  
  
  
Wheezing, he couldn’t answer. Keeping his head tilted back, Felix focused on controlling his breathing, lungs burning and aching with each deep breathe. Reaching up to squeeze on Krem’s hand, he coughed, causing the ache to grow worse before starting to slack off as the tightness in his chest begun to ease. Breathing out slowly in relief, he finally opened his eyes to spot Krem staring worriedly at him.  
  
  
Coughing again, Felix tried to smile at him. “Hi.” Voice rough, he wheezed a tiny bit on the word but the tightness in his chest continued to fade.  
  
  
“What the hell was that?” Krem demanded, staring intently at Alexius, not liking how pale he was or the faint bluish tint to his lips.  
  
  
“Attack.” Taking another breathe, he found it a little difficult to speak, it was always hard after suffering an attack, but he knew Krem would want answers. “Happens when I climb stairs...too fast.” Speaking slowly, unwilling to cause another attack, Felix felt the man staring at him.  
  
  
“...Why in the hell are you in a second floor room? Shit, Alex, you should have told Lady Josephine you need a ground floor room.” Krem was annoyed. He fixed the other with a firm look, starting to turn away to find help. “I’m going to fix this. Don’t move.”  
  
  
Blinking in surprise as Krem stormed off, Felix had started to open his mouth to protest. To tell him not to but he was already gone, the door standing open behind him. Shaking his head, he tested the strength of his body, climbing to his feet after a moment and started to pack his meager belongings. If Krem was successful, and he suspected that he would be, it would be wise to have everything ready for when he returned.  
  
  
Tucking his books inside a small chest, he turned the obvious nickname over in his head. Was it a slip of the tongue, Krem’s way of keeping distance between them or something else, he wondered. Leaving the top of the chest open, he started to pick up the pillows, placing them on top and finally shutting the lid, hearing it click close.  
  
  
As he reached for the bags to fill with his clothing, Krem returned with three people in tow. Two he guessed to be Chargers but then he saw her stepping into the room. The Inquisitor. Surprised to see her, he dropped his tunic onto the bed, turning immediately and bowing. “Lady Inquisitor.”  
  
  
Grimacing at him, Iselle shook her head, quirking an eyebrow up at him even as she tilted her head back to meet his gaze steadily. “My name is Iselle, Ser Warden.” Studying him with dark eyes, she compared her memory of him with the man standing before her. Inclining her head briefly towards the half packed bags, she waited to see if he would explain why Krem had asked her to come.  
  
  
His hesitation lasted only a moment before he was nodding at her request. “Iselle.” There was something about her that made him a little uneasy in a way he hadn’t experienced when they first met; she carried power around her like an invisible cloak. Until he saw the spark of mischief in her deep brown eyes. Relaxing slightly, Felix knew that expression: it was one he had worn on many occasions. “I’m Felix Alexius.”  
  
  
Flashing him a smile, Iselle snorted. “I’m aware. We met in Redcliffe. It was rather memorable. I can’t say I’ve had very many people fall on me.”  
  
  
Flushing a little at the light rebuke, Felix had not expected her to remember him. Surely she had met countless people since and the meeting in Redcliffe had been brief. A throat cleared behind them and he turned, spotting Krem watching them...was that irritation in his eyes? Wondering what might have caused that kind of expression in Krem’s eyes, he noticed the Inquisitor was still watching him. Remembering why she was there, he cleared his throat. “I regret to ask if it will be possible to move into another room, preferably on the ground floor. Stairs are difficult for me and Skyhold has many.”  
  
  
“Is that all?” Half laughing, Iselle regarded Felix with quiet mirth. “There are many ground floor rooms available. Many of the Inquisition scribes moved on and since you have the look of a scholar, I believe one of their old rooms will be a good fit.” Turning towards the door, she paused in the doorway before looking over one shoulder at them. “Are you going to need help carrying your belongings?”  
  
  
“We’ll get them.” Krem spoke, hefting up the bags, leaving the other two Chargers to grab the trunk. “Alex can get himself downstairs.” Shouldering the bags, he swept his gaze around the room, visually checking that nothing had been left before wrapping a hand around Felix’s elbow and guiding him from the room. “Save your breath for walking.”  
  
  
Opening his mouth to protest, he stopped before saying anything, letting Krem lead him out into the bright sunshine. Blinking against the brightness, Felix didn’t protest as he was guided down the corridor, thoughts drifting back to the nickname Krem bestowed on him. He tried not to read too much into it.  
  
  
“This should do.”  
  
  
The feminine voice broke into his thoughts. Pulled out of his distraction, Felix found himself standing in front of an open door, light spilling into the interior. Stepping through the doorway, he looked around the space, liking what he saw. It was bigger than his previous room, a desk situated under the shuttered window to catch the last of the day’s sunlight, two built-in bookcases and a small two person table with chairs. “It’s perfect.”  
  
  
Hearing footsteps approaching, Felix moved out of the way, watching as the Chargers came in carrying the trunk. Reclaiming two of the bags from Krem, he thanked them for their help, noticing how Iselle slipped out before he could finish speaking. Amusement sparked into life and he moved to start unpacking.  
  
  
Watching Alex for a long moment, he tried to figure out what to say. Fingers clenching into balls, Krem felt the words get lodged in his throat. Opening then shutting his mouth, he gave up and turned to leave when Alex’s voice stopped him in his tracks.  
  
  
“Krem. Thank you.” Leaving his clothing in a neat pile on the bed, Felix wanted to approach Krem but the other man’s body language was warning him to keep his distance. “I appreciate this.”  
  
  
Face growing hot, Krem mumbled something before fleeing. Before he did something stupid; like kiss him. He wished Alexius was like every other Altus. It would be so much easier if he could hate him.  
  
  
And not be in love with a man who represented all he hated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed.


	6. Chapter 6

Probably discontinuing this story.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed this. I didn't mean for it to become so big or angst-driven.


End file.
